Monstrous
by moises08
Summary: Project "Cloverfield" was left a mystery, but what was the real story behind the tragedy and what is "The Tagaron Accident"? Inspired by true events. CHAPTER THREE ADDED!
1. July 17, 1997

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own any affiliation with the "Cloverfield" franchise and/or consisting of its entertainment branches. They are rightfully owned by Paramount Pictures and Bad Robot Productions. However this is fan fiction and I do not want my work to be published for profit. I understand that the "Cloverfield" franchise will continue to thrill the next generation of monster lovers and that this piece is simply for pleasure in which I present my take on what might be story behind the film.

Please note: this story is inspired by true event, believe it or not. Google "The Bloop" to find out more about it's interesting properties . It is both fascinating and terrifying to wonder not if there is a creature similar to "Clover" in the depths of the oceans, but when will we see it? I have taken facts and the mythologies of the film and more to construct the back story of "Cloverfield". In fact, I encourage you to research this phenomenon for yourself. Everything I include in this story is "research authentic" through viral marketing and real programs and organizations. I also encourage you to review my work with any comments regarding the story itself or its legitimacy. Enjoy!

"_Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured_?"

-Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher

"_It's alive. It's eating people_."

-Marlena Diamond, "Cloverfield" 2008

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**Weddell Sea**

**February 25th, 1995 **

A pair of large black scissors bit the velvet red ribbon swinging inches in front of it and its two halves fluttered away from each other as a thunderous roar of excitement and applause broke way. Dozens of people wearing black and olive business attire clapped and cheered, but the two halves of the ribbon fluttered off into the misty, sea air never to be one again.

"Mr. Yoshida, I believe you will have no problem with your legacy now." An older looking man with a thick German accent shook hands with a younger Asian man who was shaking hands and talking with people left and right. "I believe this station will hold many wonders in the near future."

Yoshida smiled and bowed. "It is you I must thank, Mr. Möltken. Your company's partnership with Tagruato has many benefits and can only grow stronger as the years descend upon us. Just look at this station we've built together." He raised his hand towards the towering machines above the crowd. Crates, arms, pulleys and freights moved in a cohesive motion. A tower pointed a hundred feet into the sky and workers in orange jumpsuits and others in white coats scurried about in their own worlds. Each one doing their part as planned. The platform they stood on the ocean floor fifty feet over the cold, crashing waters below with reinforced legs. They knew they were safe.

"Well, my good friend," Möltken began," your Kogen Station is beautiful and i'm sure your expeditions for deep sea petroleum will lead us both in bright days. This is your ninth station opened and your fifth one today?"

"That is correct. I have plans for sixteen stations, " Yoshida paused to shake a passing man's hand, "Thank you Dr. Wellz, and each one will maintain to their primary objectives, however with individual "uniqueness", so to speak."

Möltken's eyes furrowed. "Sixteen? I'm sure I am mistaken but I recall fourteen stations total, with five more on the way."

Yoshida smiled and patted his back as he led him away from the bustling crowd consuming refreshments and conversing with one another. "I can assure you that there is still much to talk about but you can be rest assured that there are two more with special intentions." Yoshida stopped in front of the rail, overlooking the giant, icy monster that is the Southern Altantic Ocean. "There is so much to explore in these waters and they all hold keys to magnificent wonders. Wonders which can be able to transform not one but millions of lives."

"Mr. Yoshida, what are you saying?" Möltken grew curiouser. He held on to the cold bars in front of him and looked at him intently.

"I am saying, Mr. Möltken," Yoshida's smile faded as he gazed off into the ocean, "there are places out there that have to be explored, barriers that have to be broken, and things that must be changed to truly benefit the human race in its raw form."

Möltken sighed as his mind heavied with thoughts. "Well, remember you have my allegiance to Tagruato. I will stand beside you-"

"Thank you my friend-"

"-as long, as you keep to the agreement, Mr. Yoshida." Möltken's eyes locked with Yoshida's and the stare was broken with a small vibrations in the rails that he was holding. Yoshida looked down at the bars and then at the tables and chairs on the open platform and a look of shock erupted over his face. "Mr. Yoshida-

A sudden burst of tremors erupted beneath the station, violently shaking it. Crates fell, steam spewed from pipes and the crowd shouted and ran for cover. Mr. Yoshida gripped the railing and fearfully looked at the station around him as the tremors shook the floors.

Then in an instant, the shaking stopped and the people slowly rose from under the tables and corners. They whimpered with each other and quickly made their way towards the helicopter bads and docking stations.

A man in a red jumpsuit hurried over to Yoshida and pulled him aside. "Sir, you're needed in the control room."

Yoshida looked stunned but nodded as he gave a quick look at Möltken. "I suggest you hurry with the rest of them. I need to tend to this." He didn't shake the frightened man's hand but quickly left with the worker. "I'm sure there's an explanation to your "indestructible" materials." He finally said, leaving the poor man at the railing.

Möltken didn't say anything but tightly held the bars that supported his shaking body. He looked down at the darkening waters and noticed the waters to be awfully calm after the tremors. Too calm. Möltken finally let go of the rails and joined the rest of the frightened crowds alongside the helicopter pads.

Paramount Pictures and Bad Robot Productions present...

**MONSTROUS**

A fan fiction written by moises08

Perfect. Flawless. Devious. Hidden beneath the darkest of shadows and empowering its might with the a fraction of what is Cthulhu's rage, the ocean is God's gift and curse. An enigma filled with wonder and terror, the abyss has even the heavens cowering in regret. Where the deepest dwellers lie silent, thriving for movement. Creatures of both wondrous and horrific proportions. Truly, a monstrous perfection.

For the past half-century the mega-tycoon "Tagruato-CORP.", a world leader in energy resources, medical research, advanced technology production and consumable product, has challenged the world to reach in itself for the advancement of technology and energies. Having founded its roots in underwater drilling stations, Tagruato committed itself to the search of sub-oceanic wonders which may hold the key to disease, war and static development. It wasn't until the late twentieth century that Tagruato had decided upon global expansion of its drilling projects. The corporation became even more defensive from outside resentment to its rising expansions. There were those who were curious to its projects and Tagruato defended that right as a world power; sometimes, all too aggressively.

**100 miles West of Puerto Montt**

**July 17, 1997**

Jonas West reached a point on the rope and observed the barnacles foaming over the torn end. Somehow he imaged millions of microscopic sea plantae busying themselves. These minuscule creatures unsuspecting to the larger world, had no idea that a monster watched intently from afar. With final tug he was able to loosen the crates from the upper deck. Large metallic boxes, smaller than freights, began sliding down towards the stern.

These crates were tightened over by tarps. They collided atop the first deck, hidden beneath the roaring of the early morning waves. The air riddled with sea salt and noise had no effect on Jonas West, a marine biologist of the older days. He steadied his feet on the rocking ship of the "Abrams", owned privately by Captain Stephan Cower and Regis Landle.

"Hey Jonas!"

West shield his eyes from the hovering sun and looked up. "What's cookin'?" The taste of sea salt tickled his mouth.

"Alten wants a word with you about the efficiency of the machine." Loomis, a long time partner and friend, stood over the rail of the upper deck. He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed. "He said something about not having the right rods."

"What?" West dropped the ropes and made his way around the crates and towards the stairs, gripping the guardrail of the ship. "I already told him those rods were the right size. We've already went through with this, just this morning!"

Loomis raised his hands in innocence and made an "I don't know" expression. "Talk to him about it. He seemed pretty ticked though."

West took off his gloves and shook his head grumbling. "I don't give a rats ass what he is." He walked into the pilot house with Loomis following. "Tagruato slime," He grumbled, "Where is he?"

"I'm right here Jonas."

West walked around the control monitors, machines and gyroscopes to the farther room in the back. Alten Stevens, a man in his mid thirties sat around table with an older man. For a second, Alten's eyes met with West and then he went back to a map of the southern South American coast lines. Stevens bore the erosion of sleepless nights and the corruptive stench of exploitive power.

"So you see here Captain, these schematics of Tagruato's Deep Sea Drilling Stations show that there's no record of its station in this thousand mile range. My first indication was that we were sailing from Montevideo to the Kogen Station, but soon found out that we were both mistaken." Stevens looked up at West discomfortingly. "Where are you taking us, Mr. West?"

"Hmm, I see." Captain Cower leaned back and then smiled as he found West standing in the doorway. "Yes, Jonas would you care to explain me this miscalculation."

West paused for a moment stunned and then pointed a quick finger at Stevens. He looked at the Captain calmly and walked over towards the map. "Captain, I thought we had made it clear that the coordinates that I had were legitimate."

"Yes, we did but if it is so legitimate then why doesn't your Kinto Station show up on the company's records?" The Captain suddenly became intense. "I don't feel comfortable sailing this far without a legitimate source."

West sighed furiously and pulled out a map from the inside of his jacket and slid it next to the other two maps on the table. "Tagruato's records publicly show nine drilling stations placed all over globe thus far. Here's one in the the Inland Sea, here's another on the Ionian Basin and another placed right below the Kosho Station in the Sea Of Okhotsk. There are plenty more."

The Captain looked at the maps curiously.

West continued. "But, there are a few stations that aren't publicly admitted."

Stevens' hands flew in the air and he grunted. "Captain Cower this is ridiculous! He's talking about imaginary stations here."

"Let him speak Mr. Stevens." The Captain calmly allowed West to continue.

"There are two that I have coordinates of. Two that aren't shown on the records. One is Kinto Station with the coordinates somewhere 60° South 95° West and the other is the Quang Station located 11° North 142° East. Yes, I said that we were looking Kinto Station. Yes, that station isn't on the public records. But I have my sources that convince me that Kinto Station exists in these waters."

The Captain paused for a moment and studied the three maps. West's map showing the handwritten coordinates and two dots placed in the lower and upper part of the Pacific Ocean, Stevens' map with the Tagruato Logo on the upper left hand corner with all the shown Deep Sea Drilling Stations, and the other map showing the schematics of longitudes and latitudes. He looked up Stevens and nodded, then at West. "But does it convince me? I'm afraid not."

West turned around furiously and placed his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. Loomis stood next to the door with folded arms. "Captain Cower, if my colleague says the station exists, then there should've be a problem. I have never been let down by him once."

"What happened here?" West continued regardless. "I thought I had paid you to take me out here with no questions asked."

"Not when it involves danger to my ship." The Captain's voice became louder and stern.

"There's no danger here." West shouted. "We're heading for a station with food and equipment if you're worried about that."

The Captain rose to his feet. "Mr. West, I've been sailing on these waters for thirty years and I know it takes more brawn than brain to sail into a pole of inaccessibility with limited recourses."

Stevens finally broke the silent pause between them. "Captain Cower, I know we established the pointlessness of this exhibition but one might be curious enough to wonder how his mission would be carried out without event the proper equipment."

"What are you talking about?" The Captain looked back between Stevens and West.

"Jonas, you haven't told the Captain the entirety of your mission?" Stevens said slyly.

"Alten, you slick son of a bitch." West grumbled. "This wasn't part of the trip." He said louder. "I was going to tell you when we got to the station."

"What are you doing, Man?!" The Captain exclaimed. Captain Cower walked over to the window over the lower deck of the Stern where the crates slightly slid back and forth. "What are you carrying on my ship? I can't risk my ship on these waters."

West sighed and swept his hand through his hair. "They're disassembled parts of a miniature sub designed for deep sea exploration."

"What for?" The Captain angrily looked at West. "You told me you wanted a ride to this Kinto Station and back, not for some exploration!"

West felt more and more uncomfortable. "I told you a part of my mission, the rest doesn't concern you or the ship."

"What is your mission then?"

Loomis tightened his fist and felt a wave of dread over him. West looked uncertainly at him and sighed, turning back towards the Captain. "My benefactor needed to see the area of the station for any environmental hazards, for the well-being of Tagruato's objectives."

Stevens had a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Well, even if this Kinto Station existed, how could you complete your mission taking into account what Stevens had said."

"I don't know what he's saying Captain. I made it clear to him that the machine is fully functional and ready for quick assembling."

Stevens stood up as well and shot a finger at West. "Liar. I checked the crates this morning and found that you are missing two of the six needed hydrogen rods."

"You've been sneaking around the crates haven't you?" Loomis charged forward.

The Captain slammed his fist on the table and barked. "Enough! I will see to this personally that this voyage is over. We are returning to Puerto Montt immediately." The Captain took out his walkie, staring at the West and Stevens furiously. "Regis?"

After a second of static, a voice crackled over the radio. "Yes, Captain."

"Reduce velocity forty-five degrees South-Southeast." The Captain continued to look at the men, studying them.

"Yes sir." Then the voice crackled and the radio died.

"As of now our contract is terminated between us Mr. West."

"Under what grounds?" West shouted.

"Under the grounds of suspicious activity and false pretenses!" The Captain turned and headed out the door. "Good evening gentlemen, I would advise you to pack up your materials and equipment. We won't be long."

After a long pause following the closing door, West shouted as he threw the table aside. Papers and the maps flew violently and West lunged towards Stevens, gripping his collar and slamming him against the wall.

"God Dammit, Stevens! I knew better than to hire Tagruato's slime!" West gritted through his teeth.

Stevens also breathed furiously. "There's more to this mission than you told the Captain, isn't there?"

"I'm not saying anything to you, especially to you."

"I wonder Jonas, who's your benefactor?" Stevens smiled arrogantly. "Is it T.I.D.O.wave? Striking down against Tagruato since 1945? Or has the motto changed?" Stevens sneered and pushed West aside. "Go back home, forget about this and tell your "benefactors" to lay off."

West glared at Stevens as he made his way out of the room.

There was only the thunder of the waves and the rocking of the ship. Loomis walked over to West and patted him on the back.

"Damn. We should've known better than to bring Stevens here." West sighed. He sat down and placed his head on his hands.

"It couldn't be helped. We needed a Tagruato employee in order to gain access to it's territories."

"What I don't understand though, is how he found out? We made it clear that we were on a simple voyage to Kinto Station and then this."

Loomis helped him up and brought the table right side up again. "Well old friend, "he paused for a moment as he saw Stevens shoot a glance from outside the window, "there's nothing we can really do now."

West said nothing but looked at the maps littered on the floor. On the map with the Tagruato logo, exactly on the waters they were sailing on, was a pink circle labeled "TAGARON PROJECT".

Later that night, West sat hunched over a journal on his desk.

"_July 17, 1997_," he wrote, "_Everything was going so well. According to the coordinates, we were less than three days away. Unfortunately, my suspicions about Stevens came true. The Tagruato swine proved all too troublesome yet it's how he obtained the knowledge about the mission that bothers me: who can I trust? Loomis, my long time partner and friend, knows better than to confide in Tagruato employees. Everyone else seemed so cooperative. What happened this morning? T.I.D.O.wave sent me a letter concerning the Tagaron Accident. I didn't lie to the Captain and his company but there would've been such a cost had I spilled everything. Several weeks ago a contact notified T.I.D.O.wave of a recent chemical spill. A spill of what? I'm not sure. T.I.D.O.wave refused to disclose that information to me but my mission was set regardless. I was dispatched to explore the extent of the damage caused by the spill and the hot zone is no where other than Kinto Station. Coincidence? I'm not sure right now, but I have to find some way to turn this ship around. Tagruato's stations have done enough of destroying this earth. The problem lies in awareness. Where the media fails to uncover the truth, we will expose. I must not fail. There are thousands of potential species at risk. Hell, because we don't know what the chemical is it makes it even more dangerous. Hopefully, with the machine that can put the Alvin to shame, I can manage to delve deep enough to see. And when I do, everyone will know_."

West put down his pen and walked out of his cabin. He went through the ship, up towards the Stern until he saw Loomis leaning on the rail. Loomis was watching the waves rush behind the ship as it sped on and away from their target. He drunk from a small can that was labeled "_Slusho_."

"What do you see?" West asked in the brisk sea air. He walked up next to his chubby friend and watched the glimmer of the night sky.

"Nothing. I checked the crates and believe it or not," Loomis looked uneasily at West, "we've got missing rods."

West sighed and laid his head against a nearby pole.

"I'm just wondering, how could such a force cause so much devastation and we don't even know about it? The world doesn't know about." Loomis had then imagined Tagruato's projects.

West turned to him and sighed. "There has to be a way of going back. A sign, anything."

"What are you thinking, pal?' Loomis asked curiously, slurping the drink.

"The Tagaron Accident is too big to go unnoticed. Tagruato's mistakes have always been swept away in secrecy but not this time. I believe that something big is going to come out of this, whether it be for the worse of Tagruato or for us."

Loomis laughed and shook his head. "You need a break man." He caught another glimpse of Stevens from the corner of his eye.

West began laughing but stopped as he yanked the drink from Loomis' grip. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hey, that's mine!"

West read it and tossed it into the sea.

"Loomis, you got some balls drinking that crap."

"Well, that crap was good for your information."

West ignored him and watched the seas unfold. That crap, West though, was the one thing that kept Tagruato running powerful in the public. Curious.


	2. July 25, 2007

**Chapp's Cafe New York City**

**July 25, 2007**

"._.and local officials are both trying to contain the demonstrations with minimal damage to both property and persons. But it doesn't seem to be holding up. Just moments ago the crowds have doubled and are only growing in size. It's apparent that today's trail of the 'End Oil Org vs. Tagruato' has reached the attention of environmentalists, activists and politicians alike. You can see two hundred plus people showing their resentment against the Tagruato Corporation. So it goes to show you that a large power like Tagruato doesn't have to break a few international codes and environmental regulations to upset people of all over. Even though only a hand few are representing the 'End Oil Organization", word has been heard that a large supporter of this trial has been seen encouraging the demonstrations and it's no other organization than T.I.D.O.wave themselves. Actually, T.I.D.O.wave has been encouraging 'End Oil Organization' to appeal to the court after 1999's decision of the same case. Now you can see that they got their chance. You might remember the court case of 'T.I.D.O.wave vs. Tagruato' in 1999 after the exposure of Tagruato's ill-intended missions, corruptive alliances, destructive environmental tactics and the mysterious 'Kinto Drilling Station' including 'The Tagaron Accident" that was revealed to the world, led the public to believe that there was more to Tagruato's good will than was seen. However, the verdict was left for the grand jury to decide Tagruato was not guilty because certain sources that led to Tagruato's exposure was left unquestioned. In the end, T.I.D.O.wave's attempt to bring down Tagruato backfired resulting in further suspicion of the organization's involvement. It was only a matter of time before such grassroots movements such as T.I.D.O.wave and 'End Oil Org' finally gathered enough support to try the mighty corporation of Tagruato once again. Now, we can only wait and see as the second verdict will decide the fate of Tagruato. I'm Marlena Diamond and this is Chapp's News, giving you a personal scoop on the biggest news_."

Theodore Hanssen turned away from the television in the corner of the café and looked down on his newspaper: "_**FINAL DAY OF JUDGEMENT FOR TAGRUATO**_". Theodore took a sip from his caramel latte and read what was only stated before in Marlena's report. He smiled at the thought of her. Theodore looked around him and saw that the college students, public activists and tree huggers that usually littered the liberal hot spot had all up and left to the rally. He finished his cup and left his tab, making his way out of the café and into the streets where a river of people stabbing the air with signs and boards marched down the street to the R. Goddard Courts Building down the street towards a large mass of protesters waited in hot temper outside.

'Teddy! Teddy!" A girl in her late twenties ran over to Theodore waving a microphone in her hand. She wore a huge grin on her face and eagerly jumped into his arms. Behind her, a camera crew for "Chapp's News" of the nearby café watched curiously.

"Marlena, that was great." Teddy finally had a chance to breathe after he was raided with quick pecks across his face.

"Did your really think so?" She got back down on her feet and sighed in relief. "I mean this was my first gig and all and I don't think my best was shown and-"

Teddy placed a finger on her lips. "Babe, you were amazing." He said closely.

Marlena's smile only widened. She wore designer-blue skinny jeans with an olive green corduroy jacket over a darker shirt. One of the many things that bedazzled Teddy about her was her interesting passion for fashion and all things style. She unbuttoned her corduroy jacket and took it off, seeing how the only thing hotter than Marlena, in Teddy's eyes, was the blazing sun.

She turned around behind her towards the street full of people. "Let's try to squeeze our way into the crowd; I think I can get a couple of interviews with some people." She tugged Teddy along and submerged herself in picket signs and angry fists.

"Marlena, you want to go in there?!" Looking at the squad cars and barriers around them, Teddy didn't have long until Marlena made his choice for him.

The couple sped forward through the busying streets and into the heat of the demonstration where the air was ignited with outrage.

Teddy noticed most of the crowd wore T.I.D.O.wave shirts and how he stood out like a sore thumb. It wasn't the fact that he didn't want to agree with the crowd's ideals, it was more or less the reason for it. He had nothing against Tagruato Corp. or any oil tycoon for that matter. It was the evidence that bothered him the most, however. Where as these grassroots organizations had speculation and witnesses, some of which can be questionable, Tagruato instead has records, tangible evidence that they are nothing more than a recourse for the world to use. And this Tagaron Incident everyone keeps talking about seems a little absurd if you asked him. There was nothing to go on but a handful of witnesses and a chemical spill. But Teddy took one look at Marlena and forgot his neutrality. Anything for Marley, he thought.

Pulling out a Canon Powershot, Teddy decided to make use of his hobby and take a few shots. He snapped various pictures of people lining against the barriers with pointed signs inscribed with: **DOWN WITH TAGRUATO!** Or **TAGRUATO: BLEEDING OUR PLANET DRY SINCE 1945**. Each face squinted beneath the hot sun but furrowed under the sheer weigh of their resentment. Teddy moved along and shot a few more of the curious onlookers perched over the rooftops and windows of nearby complexes and buildings, also taking their shares of video and photos. There were several well posed pictures of the security lined, shoulder to shoulder behind the barriers. Attorneys, Clerks and other court employees walked up and down the front stairs of the court house paused for a second to admire the support End Oil Org had. But soon they minded their own and kept their way, dodging the buzzing news crews of Fox News and NBC with their own. Yes, it was quite a sight to behold. Teddy finally spun around to see one particular demonstration of a man tipping over a barrel of oil that was labeled:**TAGRUATO **in bold letters while shouting furious chants about its destruction. He wore no T.I.D.O.wave shirt or End Oil Org caps and fit closely to a random hobo than anything else, but no matter the status anyone against Tagruato is one in a million against one. The odds had long been set.

"-so you've been part of End Oil, is that correct?" Teddy saw Marlena raise a microphone to a pudgy man in a shirt that was obviously too small for his own good. She had a camera man behind her who leveled a heavy looking camera over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's right. I've been a faithful member since my father died in 1985 from one of Tagruato's earlier station malfunction. Actually it if hadn't been for Tagruato, I would never have found my place in life."

"You heard it here. A man who's life has been changed by Tagruato. I'm Marlena Diamond and this is Chapp's News." Marlena lowered her mike and shook hands with the pudgy man. She turned around and beamed at Teddy, waving him over.

Teddy, unfortunately, had trouble making his way past the bustling crowd of protesters.

"I love this Teddy. More and more I'm getting the feeling that something good's going to happen." Marlena had never looked happier. She lowered her wavy hair from the pony tail and gave Teddy another kiss.

"You like kissing me don't you?" He smiled and noticed that the crowd had grown louder and rowdier.

"Look Teddy!" Marlena pointed at the top of the stairs as a well-groomed man in a hazel suit walked out of the court house. "That Drew Reeves, one of the attorneys representing End Oil."

His face was pale and stern and he cleared his throat as he prepared himself for the worst. Suddenly, most of the crowd died down as he was joined with more officers and councilmen.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He shouted as loud as he could while maintaining his voice. "As of Four-Thirty Seven this afternoon, the Grand Jury has reached a verdict." Reeve's bottom lip trembled and he straightened his tie.

Marlena held her breath in anticipation and the entire crowd grew hot. Even Teddy wanted to know who was charged with what, or at least has it gone anywhere? He looked around him found that time stood still as everything, everywhere across the globe in that instant also held their breath.

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The city night was buzzing outside but inside a cozy apartment all the lights were turned off. There stacks upon stacks of video tapes and CD's towering over each other in the office where the computer was littered with post-its and sticky notes. Photographs of oceans and maps of "The Complete System of Oceanic Tectonic Plates" were stamped on the walls, written and noted on. The bed in one room was unmade and clothes including both boxers and bras were sprawled out everywhere. The bathroom was also an interesting sigh containing dozens of hygienic accessories from cologne to Tampons. Then the living room had it's share of DVD's sleeping under the couch, shoes and backpacks. And the kitchen was a masterpiece of pizza boxes and Chinese take-out but the sink laid undisturbed. Truly, this apartment reeked of life.

The front door next to the kitchen moved and muffled voices where heard through the door as faint shadows danced beneath. The knob clicked and turned and in stormed Marlena, dropping her bags on the kitchen floor.

"I hate this!" She shouted. "I hate fucking Tagruato, I hate the courts and their damn justice systems. There is no justice here!"

Teddy quickly moved in and closed the door. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear.

Marlena buried her head into his shoulders and cried. "The only system we have is that the powerful keep the powerful strong." She sobbed. "It's always been like that."

Marlena left his arms and walked towards the bathroom, angrily shutting the door.

Teddy sighed and slumped on the couch. He turned on the television and opened one of the bottles of Jack Daniels lying about on the floor. CNN had first appeared.

"-_said councilman Drew Reeves. His position on the loss was that of disappointment and shame calling it 'a significant dent in his career'. No one else gave a comment about the final verdict. However, representatives from T.I.D.O.wave were seen conversing with 'End Oil Org' soon after the trial was dismissed. Once again, Tagruato has won the case for the second time over scandals and has now been changed to 'false accusations' and 'victim of career sabotage'. Now the question of whether Tagruato will sue the T.I.D.O.wave on its own charges for being the primary actor, is another story_. _While the struggle for the grassroots organization to overpower Tagruato continues, the mission to disperse the roaring crowds away. There still remains about two hundred people outside the courthouse_-"

Teddy changed the channel and sighed. Marlena had not took it well at all and the headaches resulted was a good example of the destruction left in her wake after the crowds were dismissed. Of course, she stood and announced her resentment, along with five hundred others.

Teddy looked up and saw Marlena wipe her eyes with her hands. She sat down next to him and laid her head on his shoulders. Teddy silently sighed and laid his head on hers.

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The next day, Teddy arrived at The Institute of Oceanography at Oyster Bay. The drive usually took him no longer than an hour but being away for nearly a day killed him a little. Had it not been for his research, Teddy would never be that far from Marlena.

He drove in his Honda Civic down Expressway 135 and ignored the buildings zipping by, each one as dull as the next. Teddy turned on the radio to escape the highway hum beneath him and found a rock station that he particularly liked. With Marlena working as an assistant at the "Atlas Talent Agency", Teddy spent more of this daylight driving towards the institute and back, working as devout oceanographer and researcher. As much as he loved his job, he couldn't help but keep her in the back of his mind and think about how she was feeling. He knew she hated her job and wanted nothing more than to be a news reporter. So it wasn't much of surprise when she came home one day excited about a one shot job at Chapp's. She was to report on the demonstrations on their privately run news and had it not been for the upsetting news of Tagruato's success, she would still be talking about how fantastic it was to finally get that chance. However, Fate had other things planned for her.

Teddy heard a song end and the D.J. announcing the next song: "_This next one is a recent favorite and those who know Wolfmother's "Woman" then this should be a nice surprise for all of you of EP fans_." Teddy turned the volume up a little bit and kept going down the expressway as the song went on, "-_Can you see the joker flying over, as she's standing in the field of clover, watching out everyday_?_ I wonder what would happen if he took her away_?-"

He arrived at one of the institute's private laboratories along the bay where his team of oceanographers and marine geologists worked. His team was one of New York's more brilliant, yet criticized groups that studied the Northern Atlantic Ocean's tectonic movements. After leaving the car, Teddy noticed clouds rolling in from the north and gaining. He felt the brisk air coming from the northern lands and smiled. He felt more at home, sensing Iceland wasn't that far away. He stepped inside a small building across the parking lot that oversaw the beaches in front of them, and was greeted with low murmur and a random wave.

"Theodore." A thin man kicked his chair from the wall and rolled over to him. He appeared in his early thirties but looked like someone who needed a party or two. "Word is that you and Marley were up at the Municipal Court, yesterday."

"Yeah, the word is right." He sighed, dropping his backpack next to his cubicle before finally slopping on the chair. Teddy spun around and clasped his hands together. "So what's new, Vick?"

"Oh, the usual." Vick leaned against the cubicle wall, dodging one of the thousands of photos that Teddy took with Marlena. "The scale's not going anywhere out of the ordinary but there's been a few spikes or two."

"That's not going to cut it. If the Dean's going to decide how much of the funding cut we get, then we're going to have to show a bit more meat. What happened to the readings from a few days ago? Those where off the chart."

"Ah, well, I'm getting to there." Vick cleaned his glasses and shifted his head. "Those spikes weren't consistent, you know that."

"Uh-huh."

"And well they were from a fixed location, I'd say somewhere around our favorite spot on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, give or take a couple hundred miles."

"Victor, get to the point."

"Right, Right. Well, you can tell the Dean during next Tuesday's board meeting that you've might be right after all."

"I could've told you that Vick." Teddy rolled his eyes in amusement. "But what specifically? I'm right about a lot of things."

"Alrighty then. Well about your "Actor-theory"."

Teddy sat up straight and slapped the wall in victory. "Has anything I've been saying gone through anyone's head!?"

"Take it easy Ted. I mean you know how common seismic fluctuations are, especially amid a ridge. But you can make a case about how not only are these readings fluctuating irregularly but at different magnitudes."

Teddy's heart stopped and he got up from his chair. "Show me."

"Wait, what? It's just a suggestion man; I mean we don't even know if the readings are complete yet." Vick stood up as well, trying to calm Teddy down, but he simply pushed him aside and began walking to Victor's cubicle.

"Hey, Ted? Ted, where're you going? Ted?" Vick followed him and witnessed Teddy rummaging around the maps and schematics lying around. "Hey buddy, take it easy."

Teddy tossed aside photographs of sonar and swept his hair back, breathing in deeply.

"Ted are you ok?"

"No, not really Vick. I mean, do you know how long I've been waiting for those readings to be confirmed? Why haven't you told me earlier?"

Vick began biting his pencil and said nothing. He stepped back and allowed a larger man to pass by into his cubicle.

"Because I didn't authorize these readings to go anywhere." Said the large man.

Teddy's nostrils flared and nodded. "What's up Michael?"

"Although we share much in common, I am still your superior in this project and I'd like to hear my status well earned."

This one of things he didn't like about his supervisor. Was that besides his arrogant and vile character, he stood in the way between the Dean of the institute and more funding.

"I apologize, Dr. Wellz."

Wellz nodded and crossed his arms observing Vick's littered cubicle. The room they were in was walled in by machines, charts and graphs, radio equipment and sonar, everything Teddy and his team needed to record and investigate recent tremors beneath the Atlantic Sea. Everything was neat and organized but Vick's place was a mess filled with coke cans, trashed pieces of paper and notes that overflowed the trash can.

"You might be curious as to why I've detained the recent readings form you Mr. Hanssen."

"Actually yeah. I have the full authority to see everything recorded and measured."

"Not if it conflicts with my jurisdiction." Wellz immediately answered.

"So tell me, Dr. Wellz, what is it that I've done that has so conflicted with your own judgment?" Teddy's voice became hot and tense.

"I've recently come across something that has not been discussed with me prior, and I will take this time to ask you as professionals, what is this "Actor-Theory"?"

Teddy's throat dried. This happened every time, he thought. He gets a theory that is far beyond the doubt of legitimacy and when it comes across Wellz, it was immediately shot down causing the team to find an alternative idea. These conclusions where usually recommended by the supervisor himself but it caused the team such a cost in time and effort that not even funds could maintain a regular support. Teddy felt as if Wellz's true intentions were to stall their research and drive it into the ground.

Teddy sighed and took out a sheet of paper and a pen. "Now this can be proven by the readings we've had these past few days and the one in the latest week so hold your criticism until after I'm done-"

"We'll see." Wellz fixed his eyes upon him and the paper.

Teddy said nothing and instead drew a horrible sketch of the Eastern Coast of many of the North Eastern states and then a crack not too far from it. "Here's the coastlines and this crack represents the Mid-Atlantic Ridge." Teddy suddenly became unsure whether or not he should go on, but continued by placing dots in various places between the crack and the coast. "These dots are the buoys that have been recording our spikes. This will show you how all the readings where from at least a five-thousand kilometer distance between us and the fault, so don't get discouraged by the readings. I've checked them. Twice. Now, regular movements would consist of the periodical tremor having mostly similar magnitudes."

"Go on."

"Well, if you look at all of the scales as a whole," Teddy motioned for one of the printouts to Vick, who suddenly looked as if he was fell in cold water. Vick opened a drawer and pulled out a packet of what looked like Richter Scales. He handed the sheets to Teddy who immediately found the right page with thin, red and blue lines quickly going up and down. "The blue line are the movements by a normal fault, the red line is our friend, the freaky fault."

Wellz wasn't amused.

"Okay then, so as the readings show both of the lines to go up and down in intervals only the red line, our freak, is seen to spike up at random points in time." Teddy looked up for a sign of acknowledgement seeing how he was surprised to see that Wellz hadn't said a word.

"And this means what?"

"That the tremors are a result of the fault growing irregularly and possibly from an actor, possibly from something or someone."

Wellz examined the scales for himself and after a long pause he smiled and gave the papers back to Teddy, chuckling under his breath. "Mr. Hanssen I do enjoy your remarkable talent for wild speculation sometimes but I am going to admit that besides my absolute distaste towards this entire project, your theories are simply empty ideas with no ground for support"

Teddy said nothing.

"Look at those spikes. You'll see that during each one we've also recorded seismic tension in the Denmark Strait and other northern seas. Those spikes are nothing more than echoes of other tremors. There is obviously nothing to get choked up about, especially if it's resulting from _something _or _someone_." Wellz gave a quick sneer. "Now, I suggest that the next time you concoct another scheme to gain funds, it'd be a wise choice to run it by me first." Wellz turned around towards Vick and his smile faded. "And do try to maintain this filth."

After he left, Teddy threw the papers aside and rubbed his forehead. "I really do hate that man."

"_And do try to maintain this filth_." Vick mocked him and shook his head. "I'm sorry man, but the guy's having me by the balls recently. After our little plot to expose him to the Dean, he's been a little edgier lately."

Teddy ignored him and looked at one particular spike that was recorded on July 15th. This was by far the largest that they've seen and it intrigued him to know that every three days since then other smaller spikes have been recorded there after.

"It's alright, I'm going out for a bit of fresh air." Teddy stepped out of the building and into the front porch. He could see the beach just a hundred feet away and wondered how could he be so stressed out when he was at the beach? Teddy looked up and felt tiny droplets trickle against his face. The clouds had already formed a light-grayish blanket over Oyster Bay and as Teddy looked out towards the sea where endless miles sprawled out before him, he could imagine the Mid-Atlantic Ridge moving at a snail's pace.

Teddy leaned against he wall and closed his eyes, feeling the cool wind flutter against his eyes. He imagined Marlena at that moment, taking calls and running errands and whether or not she was thinking of him as he was of her.

He turned to go back inside when a stack of newspapers outside the front door caught his eye. He picked up the front page and skimmed around when he found a very interesting article.

"_**TAGRUATO SUCCESS NEVER ENDS**__: It's been a day after the final verdict releasing Tagruato from all charges yet people are still in uproar. (For more information on the Tagruato Case see page 1B). However, the wins don't end there. Tagruato Corp. has recently signed on a five year contract with "Zwichau Engineering" for the upgrading and maintenance of it's current drilling stations. Zwicharu is a privately owned drillings company that plans the __highly advanced drilling system for Tagruato's stations and provides the materials used for them. __The last time Tagruato partnered with Zwichau was in the early nineties when it's global expansion of stations first took flight. A spokesperson for Zwicharu Engineering confirms while it's latest project with Tagruato has already been built, there are still plans for many more to come. So far, Tagruato has stationed up to fourteen operational drilling stations all across the globe including two other stations that weren't publicly announced for unknown reasons, the Quang Station and the Kinto Station both of which have been mysteriously destroyed. Zwicharu's latest project, The Chaui Station set in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, is scheduled to publicly open later this month. The Chaui Station finished construction Early this month and has been running tests since the 15__th_."

Suddenly Teddy's eyes widened in shock. He ran back into the building, towards Vick's cubicle where he lunged for the papers on his desk.

"You know that wild speculation I always get?"

Vick nodded. "Yeah, you got more?"

"Well, it seems we won't have to worry about fund cuts now." Teddy smiled excitedly and gave him the newspaper while he looked at the charts. "Why didn't we see it before? We've got a drilling station sitting on top of our ridge."

"So, this means what?"

"That we found our problem."

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That night after everyone had already gone and left, Teddy was finishing up his work before he too headed out. He was hunched over on his desk with maps surrounding him. One of the maps focused on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge and a note written in pen beside it: "_NOTICE: Recent seismic activity not resulting from surrounding faults. Cause of Sub-Oceanic Tremors still unknown_. _May not be caused by geographic features._"

He heard the light tapping of rain on the roof and reminded himself of the Tahoe trip that he was going to take with Marlena that Saturday. She had planned that trip for weeks in advanced but the only chance they got to use their vacation time was on the last week of July. Nevertheless, the wait would be worth it.

Teddy looked his side and saw the newspaper once again. More and more, Teddy found the ongoing news of Tagruato's Success to be pestering. Nothing, it seemed, was more important than the corporation's success over two environmental organizations. Was the world so obsessive to see the rise of power overwhelm the natural world? Teddy shook his head and continued working.

Teddy set his pen down and stretched. He was finished for the day and immediately began picking up his belonging. He left his cubicle, signed out and turned off the lights. As he made his way towards his car, he didn't bother to raise his collar up. The rain didn't bother that much. In fact, he enjoyed it.

His car was the only car sitting on the lot. It looked cold and empty, surrounded by the trickling of rain and the blackness of the night. When he went inside to open it, Teddy was astounded to see an unfamiliar large envelope sitting in the passenger seat. He grabbed it and curiously observed it. On it was written: _Mr. Theodore Hanssen_.

A sense of caution and curiosity ignited within him. How could someone break into his car without him knowing? Without a trace? Nothing was stolen or misplaced. The only thing out of the ordinary was the envelope in his hands. Teddy opened it and out came a series of photographs of what appeared to be Tectonic pictures of an ocean floor, an unlabeled tape and a letter. The photographs were taken in 1997 and were labeled "_South Pacific Ocean; Coordinates: 60° South 95° West_". There were five photographs each one showing a pink thin crack in the middle of what looked like purple puzzle pieces. However, each photograph showed the pink crack growing in size as it branched out on all sides.

Teddy furrowed his eyes and was unhappy that his Civic only had a CD player, so he went for the note instead.

"_There are more out there. I saw it. It's alive- The Whistle Blower_."


	3. July 18, 1997

**20 miles West of Puerto Montt**

**July 18, 1997**

Slowly, Silently, but sound the ocean erupts one night and with it time is broken. Hours before the break of dawn the waters of surrounding towns alongside the South American coast line tremble unsuspectingly. There are ripples then a larger wave, rubbing lightly against the sandy beaches of Puerto Montt. These minor waves traveling harmlessly for hundreds of miles will soon ride over those sandy beaches, uncovering various shellfish and crustacean's buried beneath. Some of these animals, who spend their time eating and hiding, will not bother to care about their other deeper-dwelling cousins father down in the waters who also spend their time eating and hiding but to a degree that is both alien and horrific. Sucking their prey from beneath them, where their mouths have no use of at all, these animals distinguish themselves from their brethren and prefer to live alone. If at least, not bothered all.

The sun beamed down on West as he firmly held onto the side of the boat, but he did not share the same optimism. He hadn't slept at all and took his time thinking about the day prior. How in hell did Stevens figure it all, he thought. Sure he didn't take him granted and in fact could be smarter than an average toad but both Loomis and him gave away nothing. So who leaked information?

West placed his head on his hands. The cool ocean wind did nothing to remediate his hot temperedness. He looked down at the white bubbles swiveling and churning from beneath the boat and wondered about the many miles of water beneath them. Just how far can he go if he had the power to plummet into the ocean? Where would he be? What will he find? As a marine biologist, and a world renowned one, his passion for the aquatic life gave him no sympathy for the lack of fear of its abyss. He was moved and terrified of the deep. Searching all his life for a reason for its existence, beyond the chemistry of life, beyond Darwinism. Sure he studied and hung over books and thesis's for a larger part of his life for the sake of knowledge but the experience to be just a human being in the ocean was more extravagant than any award. He would in fact sail out at night into the farther reaches of Mustang Beach and tread for a few minutes, then float, just to bask in the humility of being in the frightening grip of the water. West believed that the ocean held something else, something more to give to the world. It was a living organism, moving and breathing with the world around it. In fact, the world needs it. But like an organism beyond all comprehension, it was not meant to be tampered with or disturbed. It was not meant to be battered or destroyed and it certainly was not meant to be taken for granted and abused. The ocean can be a monster at times, but only to protect the world from its most vile intentions. West knew had to respect it before he was allowed to descend far below the comfort-zone of the surface world. He needed to do it to repay the ocean for it's devotion to mankind and by exposing to every person that the world's rising corporation has far more devious plots then revealed he can give the ocean a second chance to calm down. But he was just one man and as fate would have it, there would be many others long after him would continue to work in evil ways. West remembered a saying, however, that no matter how complicated the days are, the universe tends to unfold itself right.

"Jonas, you alright?" Loomis walked out into the early morning sun with a cup of coffee and joined him on the rail.

The boat swayed side to side but it had little effect on two men who grew up on boats. West shrugged and turned to look at him uncomfortably. "You haven't been talking to Stevens have you?"

Loomis laughed and took another sip from his coffee. "Me? Oh yeah, I've told him about T.I.D.O. and my kids, and I've talked to him about the sub and how we're actually planning to expose this station that might not exist and tell the world about it." He took another sip and wiped his beard. "Oh yeah, I've told him loads."

"You're an asshole, you know that." West smiled and looked back into the ocean.

"Hey you shot the finger at me."

"Yeah, I know. A lot of crap's been going through my head and I've been meaning to find out what's really going down."

"Well crap's always in your head, so there's nothing new there."

West lightly smacked Loomis in the back of the head and laughed. "It's just Tagruato's been getting a hold of a lot of stuff we've been planning to do. Remember the previous stations. Now this was before I was a member but I remember when there was a series of prevented sabotages on the earlier stations like Jimmu."

"Prevented?"

"Well there was word that a French organization called "Les Guerriers de Mère-Terre"-"

"Ley what-a-what?" Loomis twisted his face.

"Guerriers de Mère-Terre" West repeated himself, he turned around now with his back learning against the rail. "It stands for warriors of mother earth. They're in league with T.I.D.O.wave and a couple of other groups. Well, they told T.I.D.O. that there could a few members acting as doubles, alright maybe not as doubles, but they weren't on the same page as everyone else. No one paid attention and before anyone could do anything about it, these guys had already fed Tagruato and other oil corps information about their missions. It ruined everything."  
"Bummer."

West smelled the coffee and suddenly had the urge to get some. "I'm sort of talking on crap mode right now so I'm going to get some coffee."

Loomis smiled and raised his cup. "Nothing like it."

West had started his back inside until he stopped at the down to turn at Loomis. "Hey Loomis, you said "a station that might not exist"."

"Yeah, what of it?"

"You know as well as I do that Kinto is real."

"Well, I've been thinking Jonas. We're not entirely sure, now are we?"

"Loomis, What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, what am I talking about?" He laughed. "Go and get your coffee." Loomis turned towards the sea and began drinking quietly.

West suddenly felt his stomach drop uneasily.

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"-_But I hate goin' shopping with Ms. Cunningham. It's "Baloo, carry this" and "Ohh, aren't these cute"! It's enough to drive me stark raving…happy, heh. Just telling Kit here what a lovely day to go shopping.-" _The television in the mess hall was on, which was nothing more than a small cabin with a table and chairs, and everyone but the Captain and West was there. The smell of Clam Chowder hung in the air and an early morning mist but only Loomis, Stevens and Regis Landle were there to enjoy it.

"You know, I never thought these old flicks were good, especially B-Monster Movies." Regis Landle didn't look up from his Chowder but somehow did all of the talking. After what he heard from the Captain the day before, it seemed like a good idea to him to keep things running smoothly.

"Well this is a classic so I like it." Loomis had already finished his third serving and leaned back against his chair.

"What is this called anyway?" Landle finally saw that the movie was black and white which showed an image of a giant octopus's tentacle attacking The Golden State Bridge.

"I don't know uh-" Loomis looked up to think.

"It Came From Beneath The Sea." Stevens put his spoon down. "It was one of my favorite movies as a kid. The idea that a giant monster could reek havoc in a city fascinated me."

Loomis and Landle then looked at him curiously.

"I then would ask myself, what would I do in a situation like that? Where would I go? What would millions of people do if a giant monster suddenly arrived in the streets? What would happen? Panic and chaos, that's what."

"That's deep." Landle laughed.

"Well when we dock make sure you also see "The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms."

"What's that about?"

"Another classic. It illustrates what happens when people awaken an ancient beast that also destroys a city. Only I find this one to be particularly interesting."

"Why?"

"This beast, the one that humans had awaken, I think rose from the depths of the ocean to scourge man by spreading its disease. I also find a phrase in the movie very legendary: _It's Alive_."

The dining table became quiet and still.

"Stevens you got some issues, did you know that." Loomis laughed with the other two joining soon after. The table was abrupt with conversation and Chowder as the morning went on but in another cabin, West was very much preoccupied.

Loomis had long been finished packing, but West had barely started. He did not want to give up the mission just so quickly. West stood over a desk, looking at several maps. He needed something to convince the Captain to return but after the abysmal show that was yesterday's confrontation it deemed on him unlikely that he will ever get a chance. West finally gave up and sat down on his bed. He looked at a photograph on his disk of a man and a woman with dirty-brown locks embracing him. West smiled and thought perhaps it would be nice to return home.

Underneath the photograph were two letters that were addressed to him. West picked it up but did not open it. It remained closed for nearly a week and will remain closed until after he was finished with his mission. Behind that letter was a different envelope already opened and quickly re-read it again.

"_To whom this concerns, due to the critical implications of this letter, this information should remain classified. After screening your profile and receiving high recognitions, T.I.D.O.wave has requested that you meet back at headquarters for information on your next campaign. We have been recently notified by the Les Guerriers de Mère-Terre who happened to be around the Southern Pacific, that there is a hidden oil drilling station not on company records. The company is Tagruato. The sister organization confirms that this station has had a recent chemical spill of unknown composition. We need you, along with another member, to go to that site and take measurements of the accident site. The site has been code-named "The Tagaron Accident" because of the area the accident had occurred on company maps. For more information, please contact Dr. Richard Stevenson. Please bring required identification and a decision. Sincerely, your fellow members at T.I.D.O.wave_."

This was the letter that had started it all. The letter after they thanked him for his services and promised him for nothing else. This was that letter that told him we was going to be sent on one more mission. He felt slightly bothered by T.I.D.O.wave and the tension between he and his wife was a direct result of it.

As scattered clouds rolled overhead and the steam emitting from the ship trailed behind, West counted the minutes he had before they arrived at Puerto Montt. But for a few minute's sake he rested and reminisced about the origins of the mission…

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"Mr. Jonas Alexander West. Age Thirty-Six. Employed Marine Biologist of The Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas, in Corpus Christi. You are presently working on your doctorate. Resides in Mustang Island, Texas. Married to Robin Wryth West for ten years and have been a proud supporter of T.I.D.O.wave for twelve. Is this information correct?"

"Yes."

"You've participated in several campaigns and demonstrations in the early nineties?"

"Yes."

"You have friends and companions that share a similar ideal with this organization?"

"…not exactly."

"Please explain."

"My wife."

"No need to go further. We have that in record, here. Have you discussed with your wife that you will leaving for a while?"

"Not yet."

"I suggest that you do so but refrain from disclosing too much information. Especially if it involves your future whereabouts."

"I will."

"Now, I'm sure you've understood the contents of the letter."

"Fully."

"Do you understand what a tremendous impact the Tagaron Accident will have against Tagruato?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that this will be our organization's riskiest mission yet?"

"Not really. We've had other that were far more difficult."

"Yes but this one will require subtle involvement. Which is the reason why we decided to send only two of our prime activists for the job. You have read the procedures that need to be completed so I don't believe I need to explain any more in detail."

"Yes, I understand, but I ask who is the other participant?"

"A certain Loomis Gregory Jr., I'm sure you'll find him familiar."

"I do."

"We've chosen you because you express a brilliance in your field that can greatly aid this mission. Your expertise in marine biology will help us identify those organisms that have been endangered by the spill."

"Thank you."

Very well then, if there is an understanding between you and the mission then I can get on to other details. When you arrive at the coordinates you will make sure that you will descend as far as humanly possible, record the required measurements of the surrounding environment and ascend to the surface before the station can be able to act. Please take heavy caution that this station is non-existent to the public eye but it is real. It is also the largest drilling station made in history. Equaling a total of three standard rigs. From the information we've intercepted, The Kinto Station is also heavily armed by what we've feared to be a private militia designed by and for Tagruato. So I ask you and the your compatriot to take extreme caution on this mission."

"I will."

"I don't expect heavy weapon fire on this trip but recent missions have proved this all too well."

"Yes, but I've been wondering what has been spilled?"

"We cannot disclose that information to you but at this point we are as much confused about it as you are."

"I see."

"That said, do not linger for too long, do not trust anyone and do not, I will repeat once more, do not let this fall on Tagruato ears."

"Yes."

"You will travel to Puerto Montt, Chile by a full expensed paid trip and will rendezvous with your partner who is already there at a local bar. He will be with another man, which unfortunately we do regret to increase the risk factor of this trip, who will aid your entering in the private waters near the Tagruato station. This man will be a Tagruato employee paid to let travel with you so that the ship can gain that access. He will ask the reason for the trip and you will only reveal that you are simply sailing along but do not disclose anymore. If he attempts to uncover more information then it is now your responsibility to keep the mission classified. Do you understand these terms?"

"Yes."

"When you do find these men you go to the docks across the bar and find the "Abrams". You will talk with Captain Stephan Cower and Regis Landle who will already be expecting you. This mission should be quick both for you and your partner's safety and for the safety of this organization. I wonder myself if this is the best option we have, but it is for the moment. Knowing this information do you accept the risks involved?"

"Yes."

"Are you prepared for this trip?"

"Yes."

"Then it is set. I will approve your name. You can leave to your spouse and home, and remember to pack. You will leave for the Corpus Christi International Airport on the 12th of this month and depart from Puerto Montt the next day. I wish you good luck, Mr. West."

"Thank you."

"And remember Jonas, the Tagaron Accident can lead to something miraculous or disastrous. Whichever it is, you must be prepared for both."

"I will. Thanks Richard."

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"Jonas, the Chowder's almost gone. You sure you don't want to eat?" Loomis knocked on the side of the doorway and peered inside West's cabin.

"Yeah, I'm sure." West jumped up and scratched his head.

"You don't look too well."

"I'm just thinking, that's all."

"Uh-huh." Loomis was unconvinced.

"Loomis have you checked to see where the rods are?"

Loomis rose an eyebrow. "Yeah Jonas, I have. I haven't seen it anywhere."

West nodded but looked away. He looked at his windows and saw a dark figure out in the horizon. It was shaped uniquely and hung very still over the water.

"What is that."

"What is what?" Loomis followed him to the window.

"That over there."

West pointed at the object. He looked closer and then raced out of his room towards the control room. "Hey man, where are you going?"

West found the Captain on the Bow of the ship talking over the radio while maintaining the helm.

"_8795 Delta-Marine to unidentified ship, do you copy_?"

"This is Captain Stephen Cower of the Abrams," he boomed, "registration number: 6-4-2-3-3-7-56. Over"

"_Captain Cower, we've identified your ship. This is the U.S. Navy: Delta-Marine. You may proceed to Puerto Montt_. _Over and out_"

"Copy, Over and out." Cower turned off the radio and gripped the helm. He saw West in the corner of his eye and beckoned him closer.

West walked over and saw that the dark figure was actually the faint silhouette of two U.S. Navy battleships. As the Abrams sped forward, the battleships became clearer and more distinguishable. One ship was a long airlift named "T-AOT 5074 American Osprey" and the other was smaller cruiser named "T-AOT 8795 Delta-Marine".

"We're getting closer to Puerto Montt." The Captain finally said. "Those ships are stationed here to patrol and listen."

"Listen to what?"

"Sounds in the ocean. For the little things that don't go "Bloop" in the water."

West had nodded in understanding and looked around curiously.

"What are you looking for?"

"Do you have another radio on this ship? Long range?" West began looking besides larger machines and tracking systems.

"Out back in the Communications Room. Do you need it?"

"Yeah, I do." West had started his way out of the room when the Captain stopped him with a few words.

"West, know what you want to hear. That radio's old and you'll never know what you'll pick up. If you're just listening for anything then you'll hear more than you're willing to." The Captain did not turn around but kept his gaze at the clouds above him. As the ship rocked back and forth, the Captain felt a cold chill run up and down his spine.

West thanked him and left. Upon making his way towards the Communications Room, he pulled out the receiving codes for the T.I.D.O.wave headquarters at Corpus Christi. He needed to contact Richard and tell him the news. But as he went from hallway to hallway, room to room he stopped in front of a window to see Loomis talking to someone in private outside on the ship, Stevens. West couldn't tear himself from the image of Loomis easily conversing with a Tagruato employee but it stung. Something wasn't right about them together. He shook his head and went into the Communications Room. There were dozens of radios lining the small closet-like room, and a single table and chair. West sat down and began inputting the codes where he would soon have to face the wrath of one of his older colleagues. He was baffled at the hundreds of buttons and switches encircling him and soon began switching them all on. Suddenly, a radio began to slowly buzz from behind him. West didn't pay much attention and radioed for his headquarters.

After half-an hour of silent static, West dropped the microphone and gave up. There was no way he was going to get a signal miles out into sea. He slowly breathed out and closes his eyes. Everything was crashing down around him. This was his last mission and he was screwing it all up. And that sign that he needed to get the Captain to change his mind, never came. West thought that maybe it was time to simply call it quits.

Out on the Delta-Marine, however, in the midst of bustling crowds and excitement of the ship's main bridge, a red light blinked on and off. A man in uniform walked curiously by and turned the speakers on. Slowly, a low rumbling noise crawled out of the speakers and into the eardrums of the sailor. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned up the volume, putting on headphones to cut the distraction of the bridge from the noise. He felt himself immersed in silence and heard the clicking noise of something monstrous, something massive and alive. The noise grew louder and his heart began to pound faster. He had never heard anything like it before. It growled like an echoing moan that buckled under the weight of the sea, yet ever so light to escape it's grip. It was calling out to the world.

West had also opened his eyes and listened to the noise crackling from behind him. The faint hairs on the back of his neck stood up, prickling to the every click of the noise. What is this anomaly? He thought. What was it that he was listening to, creeping under his skin. This noise that has continued on for well over five minutes. The noise dropped every so often and then back up again.

West turned around and cranked up the volume as he studied the noise, carefully becoming addicted to it.

Back on the Delta-Marine, the uniformed soldier raced down the bridge weaving in and out of busying men and gave a sheet of paper to his commanding officer.

"What is this?"

"I don't know sir, but the SOSUS hydrophones picked up something that you might want to hear."

"Well, what it is then?" The officer read the sheet and shot a confused look at him.

"It's a noise that is nothing like I've ever heard before"

The officer looked at the sheet with numbers and codes on it. "Have you checked this?"

"Yes, sir. Twice."

"Send this to the U.S.NOAA, immediately and don't stop for anything." The officer gave the sheet to the other man and looked at him sternly. "Not for anything."

"Yes sir." The man saluted him and raced back up to the communicated bridge.

On the Abrams, West was just getting started. He had the volume on as high as it could be and soaked in every bit of the sound. It went on for another thirty-seconds and then after a descent of intensity, the noise was lost to sea. West jumped up and ran out to the stern of the ship. He listened for any bit of the noise that could be heard existing over the surface. There was nothing. Nothing but cold, dead silence. That silence which was overpowered by the ocean's rage once more and he didn't know better, he would have guessed that the ocean was on the verge of exploding.


End file.
